


It Takes Time

by Blame Canada (OneHitWondersAnonymous)



Series: South Park Drabble Bomb: April 2017 [3]
Category: South Park
Genre: Childhood, Developing Relationship, Guitars, M/M, Music, Prompt Fic, Stan is gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 23:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10729719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHitWondersAnonymous/pseuds/Blame%20Canada
Summary: Learning a new skill takes time, and Stan is prepared for that. He isn't prepared for his practicing to get cut incredibly short, but maybe it isn't such a bad thing.Submission for the third day's prompt of the South Park Drabble Bomb: Growth.





	It Takes Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my entry for the third day of the South Park Drabble Bomb, which had the prompt "Growth". Please enjoy!

_ Twang! _

“Ow,  _ fuck!” _

_ “Stanley!” _ A thunderous yell up the staircase rattled him and he cringed with his entire body. “Language!”

“Yeah, mom!” He yelled back, and he sighed, deflating into his crossed legs and tossing aside his dad’s old guitar now one string less. “How did she even hear that?” He muttered. He flopped onto his side and rolled to his back, taking a moment to stare at the water stain on his ceiling that Kenny said looked like a llama. He didn’t see it. He groaned.

Stan could feel the summer heat leaking into his bones. The air conditioning didn’t reach his bedroom very well, but this was the only place in the house he’d find peace and quiet. He’d been sweating just enough to leave his skin slick for hours while he plucked away at the strings, memorizing their feel and doing his best to crack out melodies and chords. He wasn’t learning the proper way, but he couldn’t be bothered. He cared more about damaging his fingertips enough to really start to play, to grow callouses on the pads of them until he could pluck the strings without pain in the reverb. That was what all the cool teenagers said, anyway. He wasn’t sure he believed them that it got easier.

His dad’s guitar was a piece of shit.  He kicked at it half-heartedly halfway through peeling off his sock with his other foot. One day, he was gonna buy his own. A big acoustic one, with that orangey kind of wood and pretty decals on the body. He needed it to look  _ good,  _ or else the whole thing would be useless.

As if summoned by his daydreams, his phone chirped and vibrated on his bedside table, and he twisted over to snatch it. His smile widened as he read the name he’d burned into the back of his eyes as it appeared on his phone screen. The background picture was a really unflattering candid that he absolutely hated. He’d lied and said he deleted it.

He swiped his thumb over the green call button while he rolled back on his back. “Hey dude, what’s up?” he answered, and he couldn’t help the tiny butterflies flouncing through his chest.

Stan had fallen embarrassingly in love with his best friend.

I mean, it was easy to, really. Kyle made it so easy to fall in love with him, but he had no idea the line of girls  _ and _ boys waiting for him at the edges of his life story. When Stan realized it, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut every time Kyle smiled at him. It still felt like that, but at least now it wasn’t combined with horror and confusion. It was like, a little  _ less _ horror and confusion.

" _I’m really bored and I wanted to know if you were doing anything,”_ Kyle said, his voice crackly over the poor reception everyone’s phones suffered as a side effect of living in the goddamn mountains.

“I’m not,” Stan replied, and he scrambled to get out of bed and grab his dad’s shitty guitar to stow it away somewhere hidden. Knowing Kyle, he was already halfway to his house, and he couldn’t risk him finding out. It had to be  _ perfect _ first, and a surprise. Yes, the music had to be a surprise, and it had to be surprisingly  _ good. _ He’d planned this shit over a year ago when he first realized Kyle made him want to vomit and also steal his first kiss at the same time.

_ “Well I’m already almost there so I guess that’s a good thing,” _ Kyle laughed, and Stan’s chest swelled. God it was getting hard to breathe around him.

“Yeah,” was all he could think to say, and Stan came up with a generic excuse to hang up and give him time to cram all his clutter in his closet. He slid open the door and a pile of abandoned belongings spilled out, which he grunted at in response. He really needed to organize his stuff.  

He was most of the way done shoving his things back into his closet when he heard a telling little clear of the throat from behind him. He froze before he whirled around to see Kyle standing in his doorway, a puzzled expression screwing up his nose. “Are you learning guitar?” He asked, and Stan blanched as he realized he left his dad’s goddamn shitty guitar on the bed while he tried to shove all his garbage in his closet.

“O-oh, uh, yeah, kinda,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. Kyle’s face broke out into a smile, the one that broke Stan’s brain frequently, and like clockwork he felt it short-circuit.

“That’s so cool! Show me what you can do, I wanna see.” Kyle plopped down on the end of Stan’s bed, and he wouldn’t quit making that smile that wouldn’t stop fucking him up for all eternity, Stan swore. Nerves made sweat bead on the back of his neck.

“Uh, I can’t really play anything, and I just broke a string.” Kyle picked it up and pulled at the snapped string, plucking at the other strings instead to hear their slightly off-tune notes.

“That’s okay, I just wanna see you play it.” Kyle’s eyes were impossibly bright, and Stan knew he was doomed from the start. Kyle could convince him to do anything with those damn eyes. Kyle had no idea, too. He resisted the urge to groan this time.

“Okay, okay,” Stan relented, and Kyle got even more excited, which Stan thought couldn’t be possible. “I’m not good though.”

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t care. It’s like Guitar Hero but like, way cooler. I can’t believe we used to think this was lame, wasn’t that dumb? Can you sing while you do it? I’ve heard not everyone can do both at the same time but I think it’s easier with a guitar. Does it hurt your fingers? I’ve heard that too. I bet you’re good at it, you’re good at music things.”

Stan got caught in the whirlwind of Kyle’s questions and struggled to ground himself, so instead of answering the questions he’d mostly missed in Kyle’s feverish jabbering, he picked up the guitar and started to strum it. He heard Kyle gasp slightly, and it filled him with pleased confidence.

Stan could only show him a few chords and a few little melodies, but Kyle acted like they were the best thing he’d ever heard, and Stan decided that even though it certainly wasn’t perfect, not yet, it was worth it to see him smile.  _ ‘One day,’  _ he promised himself,  _ ‘it’ll be perfect.’ _  Kyle clapped for him after he repeated the same three chords for an entire minute, and his heart soared. For now, though, his dad’s shitty old guitar and his shitty plucking would do just fine. 


End file.
